I was with Margaret and my parents; I have a dim memory of getting our silhouettes cut out by an old man sitting at a card table – I was about 5 years old, and maybe we were at the Covington County Fair. Those silhouettes spent the rest of my childhood pinned to the curtain in our parents’ jumbled bedroom, but had disappeared by the time I left for college. They turned up again when my younger sister, Lori, and I were cleaning out my mother’s house. The shape seemed like the perfect way to suggest this book’s combination of Margaret’s memories and her attentiveness to the natural world. Art directed by Mary Austin Speaker at Milkweed Editions.
Collage of antique chromolithographs
Passages from Late Migrations used with permission of the author (who is, after all, my sister)
